


Pseudonyms

by slightly_ajar



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: 5 + 1, 5 Times, Angst, Bromance, Brotherhood, Canon Typical Violence, Dad Jack, Fluff, Humour, Team as Family, silliness, tags cover whole work, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-02 11:22:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14543649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightly_ajar/pseuds/slightly_ajar
Summary: Five times being undercover was awesome and one time just being Jack Dalton was amazing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have completed all six stories in this collection and thought I’d post them one at a time a couple of days apart, just because I haven’t done that before and decided to give it a go. 
> 
> They are all unbetaed so if you spot any glaring errors that I have missed let me know. All comments are deeply loved and if you want to come and say hello on Tumblr I’m there as Sky-larking (www.tumblr.com/blog/sky-larking)

**1 ******

********

Chad Curtis wore a sharp black suit and shiny shoes. He raised a debonair eyebrow at his reflection in a chrome wall panel, pleased with what he saw. 

Chad Curtis and Ruth Ellis, or Jack and Riley, were more than halfway through their tour. They were in The Zenith, one of those skyscrapers that looked like the glass spire on top was going to open up and reveal the nose of a space rocket or the cones of a collection of missiles all aimed at the moon. A building for Bond villains and sleazy executives who thought that because they were richer than God they were above the law. Nothing good had ever happened to Jack in a place like that. They were a centre for bad juju. Jack thought it was probably something to do with all the glass they were made of, it magnified negative ions or something. 

The last time he had been in a similar building was in Shanghai where he held onto two wires and enough electricity to send a DeLorean time travelling had passed through him. He had helped stop a nuclear missile from killing thousands of innocent people and averted a world war so it had been worth it, but he’d rather not do it again, if he had a choice. 

Another notable event had occurred during that mission. He and Riley had finally been honest with each other. It had been painful, and not just the slap in the face. Seeing her cry, learning that she knew that her father had abused her mother and that she felt abandoned by him when all he’d wanted was to look after her had hurt Jack. He had wished that he was smarter, not smart like Mac because he didn’t know if he would want his head filled with the endless reams of stuff that big dork kept in his brain. He would have liked to be cleverer with words, like Matty, able to express himself and be understood in no uncertain terms. To know how to manage situations so that everything worked out right in the way he had intended. Jack acted on instinct and was guided by his gut, that was who he was and it had kept him and his team alive countless times, but he wished he could sometimes respond in a way that was considered and didn’t require a clean-up crew to deal with the aftermath. 

Riley had visited him in the Phoenix’s medical bay after the mission. He was sat on a bed wired up to a machine that was checking his heart hadn’t been damaged by the 1.21 gigawatts that had passed through it. She had sidled into the room looking sheepish with both hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans. 

“So, are you okay?” 

“Right as rain.” Jack tapped his chest with two fingers. “They’ve said that there’s been no damage. I was hoping for super powers but so far there’s been nothing. I haven’t been able to shoot lightning bolts from my fingers or anything.” 

“That’s too bad,” Riley replied, walking up to the bed and standing next to Jack. She shifted her weight from foot to foot and looked at a point somewhere in the middle of his left shoulder. “I’m sorry I slapped you, that was out of order. And I’m sorry I ruined your Christmas.” 

“What’s Christmas without a race to save the human race from World War Three?” He reached out and tugged gently on the bottom of her shirt, wanting to make a connection with her without spooking her with a touch. “It’s what families do for each other. And that is what we are, you know, family. You know that, right?” 

“I know.” She met his eye and her lips quirked with a smile. “Merry Christmas, Jack.” 

“Merry Christmas, Riley.” He turned on the bed so that he was facing Riley with his legs dangling over the edge, and held his arms wide, “Are you going to hug me now or what? C’mon, bring it in.” 

Riley gave a fond huff of a laugh and leaned in to embrace him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and she relaxed against him. Her hair was soft against his skin where she rested her head against his. 

All her rough edges and quick mannerisms had been smoothed away to create Ruth Ellis. She walked beside him in shoes that Riley would never choose to wear, wrapped in the camouflage of a pencil skirt and jacket with her hair in a neat up-do. They paced in time with each other as they worked their way through the building. The Zenith had very impressive facilities, clearly no expense had been spared. The carpets were thick, the chairs leather, the doors closed with soft snicks and the art on the wall looked like originals by artists Jack didn’t know with names he couldn’t pronounce. 

“And the area I know you really aren’t going to be able to resist is a floor above us.” Marc, their guide, smiled and gestured to the door of the computer lab they were in. He hadn’t specified that he spelt his name with a C when he introduced himself but Jack could just tell that he did. He had that look to him. 

“You’re inspired aren’t you?” Marc looked past Riley to catch Jack’s eye. “All the latest tech is here, right?” In fact, it had been Riley’s eyes whose eyes had grown wide when they’d entered the lab, she was the one examining the computer systems and asking all the questions. Marc had directed each answer to Jack, dismissing and discounting Riley as effectively as if he’s turned his back on her. She’d bristled, a lightening quick flash of anger that she’d quickly pushed down and carried on playing her part. 

“After you.” Marc held the door open for them to pass through. Riley went first and Jack noticed Marc’s eyes sweep over her. Scrutinising and appraising. Jack could practically see him awarding scores out of ten and he felt himself bristle too. 

“The science labs are up there?” Jack asked as they walked down the corridor, their footsteps silent on the plush carpets, “That’s the section my company are looking forward to utilising. We have plans that are going to make the right people a lot of money.” 

“I’m just saving the best for last,” Marc replied, “I always bring satisfaction in the end.” He winked at Riley, who arranged her features into a small smile when Jack was certain that she’d rather bear her teeth at him. 

The elevator looked like as though it wouldn’t be out of place in the Starship Enterprise, and Jack absolutely blamed Mac and Bozer for the fact that he knew what the inside of the Starship Enterprise looked like. Marc, Riley, and Jack stood side by side facing the door and watching the floor numbers change. Marc was bragging about innovation and productivity but Jack wasn’t really listening. Out of his peripheral vision he saw how Marc’s shoulder moved minutely, his hand obviously reaching over and then Riley stiffened, a twitch that tensed her shoulders and tightened her jaw. 

Chad Curtis was a lot like Marc, the dossier Jack had read about him at the start of the mission confirmed in his mind what kind of man he would be playing. Chad was probably overfriendly with his female colleagues too, standing a little too close, leaning further over them than was necessary, and casually offering innuendos with a knowing smile. Jack was sure that he took pleasure in making the women around him feel uncomfortable without being overt, revelling in the creepy, manipulative power he felt it gave him. 

Chad Curtis would probably approve of Marc’s action. Jack Dalton wanted to put him through a wall. 

Jack was impressed with the way that Riley held herself when they stepped out of the elevator. Her shoulders were back and her head up, unaffected and in control despite being next to someone who she could watch fall down a flight of stairs with relish. The décor of the hall they walked though matched the floors they had already seen but the smell was different. It smelled science-y, like the labs in the Phoenix building. Like metal and chemicals and electricity. Jack had never particular liked that smell. It seemed clinical to him, sterile, but caring about people who felt accepted and comfortable when they were surrounded by it made it feel like comfort to him too. All he wanted for the people that he loved was for them to be safe and happy, and if being somewhere that smelled like Bunsen burners and glass beakers made them happy then Jack was content to embrace it. 

And right on cue, Mac walked past them wearing a lanyards like the ones the staff in the computer labs had. His part in the mission had involved him doing something that ended with the punchline, ‘and then something goes boom and the lights go out’. He lifted his chin as he passed Jack. The clock was ticking. 

There wasn’t a boom. It was more of a fizz. But the light did go out and Jack was aware of silence falling as all the computers in the building shuddered to a halt. 

“Ah,” Marc said, looking around the dark hallway with confusion on his face. “This is highly irregular, folks. There must be a problem with the city grid, I’m sure we’ll be back business in no time.” 

“Yeah about that,” Jack replied, “that’s not going to happen.” He shook Chad Curtis off, discarding the persona with a blink. He still wore Chad’s clothes but it was Jack inside the expensive suit. Agent Dalton. 

“What?” the confusion on Marc face slowly shifted, his handsome face losing its smug demeanour as he began to understand, “You? You did this? You…”

“We did this.” Riley corrected him, her voice low, “We did.” 

The understanding in Marc’s expression became fear, then his lip curled and his eyes narrowed with fury, “No!” he lunged forwards and grabbed a handful of Riley’s hair, she cried out in pain and anger. Jack tensed, quickly assessing Marc for weaknesses, waiting for his moment to strike. 

“I suggest you take you damn hands off my colleague.” he ground out, “or I swear things are going to get much, much worse for you.” 

“No!” he started to back away, pulling Riley with him, the hand that wasn’t holding her pointing at Jack. “You stay the hell away from me, I am not…”

And Jack never did find out what Marc wasn’t going to do. Riley pivoted, twisting quickly round and under Marc’s arm to thrust her elbow hard into his solar plexus. Then she raise her knee with brutal and uncompromising force into Marc’s groin. Jack could swear that he had seen daylight appear under Marc’s feet at the impact. Marc crumpled and folded to the floor, a heap of high pitched moans curled into the foetal position. 

“Have I missed something?” Mac spoke from beside Jack’s shoulder. His surprised expression was edged with an involuntary wince in sympathy for the man on the floor in front of them. Jack was sure he looked the same. 

“Nothing worth anything,” Riley spat, looking with contempt at the man at her feet. “Are we done here?” Then, “What?” when she realised that her friends were staring at her, awestruck and a little bit frightened. 

“Nothing, nothing, we’re all good.” Jack replied, watching Riley as she stood there in front of him, eye blazing, back straight, the woman the twelve year old girl he had known was always going to be. “I had been looking forward to putting that guy down myself. I wasn’t going to do that exactly,” he pointed to where Marc lay, still slumped and keening, “I was thinking of seeing if he would fit through one of those windows.” 

He reached over and grabbed Riley, pride swelling in his chest as he squeezed her shoulder. “You were awesome Riles, you took that guy out like, blam! Remind me never to piss you off.” 

“Jack,” Riley patted the hand he had rested on her arm, “Don’t ever piss me off.” 

“Whatever you say.” Jack turned and started leading them all back towards the elevator, walking between Mac and Riley, his hand still wrapped around her shoulder. She put an arm around his waist and matched his step. 

“And me too,” Mac looked back over his shoulder and cringed. “I won’t either” 

Riley smiled at them both, “Good.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack Dalton is a gentleman and a feminist and it’s going to take a lot to convince me otherwise. 
> 
> Also, I apologise to anyone called Marc, it was nothing personal.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, in the interests of full disclosure I should say that it all gets a bit silly in this story. There’s a healthy smattering of silliness throughout this collection but it definitely peaks here. The idea tickled me so much when I had it that I had to go with it. I like to think that if it this story were to feature in an episode of MacGyver it would be in the pre credit sequence at the beginning. I love those bits though so I’m happy with that…

**2**

“Shhh!” 

“You shhh!” 

“I am shhhhed!” 

“You’re the one making all the noise by ‘shhh-ing!’” 

Jack was crouched by a dinosaur, and how many times in your life do you get to say that? He and Mac were knelt in the shadows behind a Triceratops, peering through its bones and watching a deal take place. 

They had received intel about arms dealer and all round bad guy, Marcus Beck, who was rumoured to be branching out into biological weapons. Phoenix techs had uncovered details confirming that he was going to buy documents from a disgraced scientist who had just lost his funding due immoral practices. Positive outcomes were not expected to come from this meeting and Mac and Jack were assigned to go in, witness the exchange then prevent them from leaving with the information. They were going to pose as two waiters from the fundraising event their marks were due to meet at, which would have been an ordinary and fairly dull cover for any other mission, but this time the event was being held at the Natural History Museum in London. 

Mac had insisted that they go in to the museum early in the day to learn the layout of the building and identify the likeliest location for the exchange, then sneak into the gala as the museum closed. 

Jack thought that while that plan was sound the real reason Mac wanted to go into the museum early was so he could geek out at the exhibits. He didn’t mind, Mac was funny when he got all nerdy over things in glass cases and Jack was planning to annoy him by quoting Night at the Museum 3 at every available opportunity. 

They entered the museum with the crowds and Mac managed to contain himself for more than twenty five minutes before he had a nerd-gasam. Jack was impressed, he hadn’t expected him to last that long. When they had walked in through the main entrance Jack had seen a piece of the moon which made him want to go all giddy because it was a piece of the moon! 

The actual moon! 

From space! 

He reined the excited impulse in however, because he was not going to be the one who cracked first. He was going to remain cool, calm and collected. He had his pride after all and a reputation to protect. 

They had passed a life-sized model of a termite mound and stuffed extinct birds but it was when they spotted the heatproof suits that scientist wear to study volcanoes that Mac lost it and all the dorky-ness he had been holding in erupted like Mount Vesuvius on a sugar high. 

Mac talked, a lot, and Jack feigned disinterest. It wouldn’t do to have Mac get all cocky by letting him think that Jack actually cared about what he was saying. But the truth was that it was cool. All of the exhibits were cool and as they both stood staring up at the whale skeleton cresting over their heads in Hintze Hall Jack felt the latent geek inside him smile. 

As the day wore on and the visitors began to drift away Mac and Jack squashed themselves into the dusty space behind a display of human skulls dating from a modern day Homo Sapiens specimen to one that was very, very, very old. As the echoing footsteps of the last security guard faded Mac pulled himself from their hiding space, brushed his clothes clean then peered into the case that they had been crouched behind. 

“You know,” he looked at Jack then back into the case, “I’m seeing a resemblance here, there’s a definite similarity between him,” Mac grinned, pointing to a Neanderthal skull, “and you, kind of here.” He arched his fingers and circled his hand around his forehead. 

“Are you referring to the strong, manly Dalton features there, bud?” Jack eased himself to a standing position, his knees popping with the movement, and lifted his chin to strike a dignified pose. “This is a classic profile right here, you wish you had a profile like this. And don’t forget about Planet of the Apes. Who ends up running the world in the future according to those movies?” He winked and tapped his forehead with one finger. “They’re not so dumb then are they?” 

“Those movies are about apes, not Neanderthals,” Mac replied, “that’s why it’s called Planet of the Apes and not Planet of the…”

“I have already stopped listening to you. Are you coming or are you going to stand here yackity yacking all night?” 

They slipped into the room that was being used by the fundraising gala’s staff and dressed in two spare waiters’ outfits. Carrying trays of glasses and canapes allowed them to search for their targets among the crowd of people who had paid to admire the Images of Nature exhibit and drink champagne. Jack smiled, handed out h'orderves, looked for the gun runner and the mad scientist, and started to grow bored. 

“Jack,” Mac hissed at him over the coms, “I see the scientist, he’s over by the picture of the pelican.” 

“The which one now?” 

“One of our marks is next to the picture of the large white bird over there.” Mac nodded his head towards a painting across the room from where Jack stood. 

“The one with big feet?” 

“Big feet? The bird in the picture or the man?” 

“The bird, wise guy, the bird! Do you really think it’s appropriate to joke at a time like this? When I joke try to lighten the mood on a mission all I get is ‘Not now, Jack’, ‘Save it for later, Jack,” and ‘There’s a time and a place, Jack’.” 

“We were at a silent Buddhist retreat!” 

Jack snorted. “I see him, let’s do this.” 

The scientist, a thin, pale man with an anxious expression put his empty glass down and started to head towards the door. Jack left his tray on a nearby table and slowly made his way through the throng of people. “He looks nervous so let’s be all subtle like, fly casual.” 

“Thanks for the tip, Han.” Mac followed him and together they trailed their mark through the darkened museum until they reached the dinosaur gallery. 

Mac’s looked around him, “They’re meeting here? In the dinosaur section?” 

“Well, yes,” Jack shrugged. “I would, wouldn’t you?” 

Mac considered briefly then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah I would.” 

“I’m glad we’re all on the same page, now ssssh!” 

The scientist was pacing in front of a pair of Velociraptor skeletons, checking his watch and wiping his hands on his trouser legs. 

“Don’t look so nervous, Gareth,” a deep male voice echoed around the quiet gallery, “You look like a guilty man.” The arms dealer approached the scientist, his confident gait contrasting starkly with the other man’s unsettled demeanour. 

“I’ve been thinking, Marcus, and I don’t know about this,” Gareth the Scientist looked nauseous, “It’s not right. The formula is dangerous, I don’t fully understand what it could be capable of yet.” 

“Gareth, we’ve been over this,” Marcus clapped him on the shoulder and gave a carefully constructed look of patience and understanding. Jack had seen that kind of studied sincerity before, usually on psychopaths who understood exactly how to manipulate people. “I just want to understand my investment a little better. I deserve that considering how much money I’m putting into your project, how much money I’m putting into you, don’t I?” 

“I suppose.” Gareth shifted his weight from foot to foot and looked nervously around the room. “Okay.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a brown envelope and placed it in the other man’s hands. “Okay.” 

Jack tensed his muscles preparing to rise and felt Mac do the same beside him when two laughing voices echoed around the room, startling him and sending Science Gareth’s eyes wide in horror. 

A young couple stumbled into the gallery, guests from the party who been enjoying the champagne and had stepped out to find some privacy. 

“They’ve been attacking the fences again! They remember!” They both giggled and bumped into one another, the woman carrying her red high heeled shoes in one hand, swinging them carelessly. 

“Hello!” she said brightly when she saw that the room wasn’t empty. Marcus changed his gait, adjusting into what Jack recognised as a fighting stance. 

“Mac, this is going get real bad real quick.” He hissed. 

“I have an idea!” Mac reached into his pocket for his Swiss Army Knife. “I have an idea, just hold on.” He flattened himself on the floor and pulled up a collection of wires and a black plastic box from the base of the plinth in front of them. 

“We thought there was no one else here.” The woman continued, smiling and seemingly not noticing the respective horrified and dangerous looks of the men she was talking to, “That’s fine though, we’ll go somewhere else, you just carry on,” she turned to her boyfriend. “How about the room with the big fiberglass whale?” 

“Look, they’ve got an envelope!” The man pointed to the papers still clutched in the scientist’s hand. “A manilla envelope!” He laughed, “It’s like a spy film, both of them sneaking into a dark room to exchange state secrets, or nuclear codes or something.” 

“Ooooh, they have!” the woman said, joining in with her partner’s joke. “Maybe the Ebola virus is in there. Is it the Ebola virus?” 

“Marcus,” Gareth said, his voice thin and high pitched. “They’ve seen us. They’ve seen our faces.” 

Marcus stepped forward, a sharp knife appearing in his hand from his sleeve and glinting in the low light. “I’ll deal with this.” 

Jack rose to a crouch, balling his fists. “Mac…”

“Done.” Mac gave the wires snaking into the small box a final twist and snapped the casing shut. “I think you’re going to like this.” 

As Marcus took another step a low rumbling growl filled the gallery. 

Then another one. Louder and angrier. Predatory and ruthless. 

Jack felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and an instinct he inherited from an ancient, tree dwelling ancestor urged him to find a hole and hide in it. 

A dark corner of the room filled with red light, then a roar thundered through huge sharp teeth and a giant foot stamped and clawed at the ground. The beast’s tail thrashed and it reared towards people in the room. 

The young couple fled leaving Jack, Mac and their targets staring at a hungry, prowling Tyrannosaurus Rex. 

“Go!” Jack shouted and he and Mac burst from their hiding place and tackled the stupefied bad guys, Jack disarming the arms dealer with a hard twist to his wrist then knocked him unconscious with a right hook. As he hit the floor the red lights went out as quickly as they had come on and the monster in the corner fell silent and vanished into the dark. 

Gareth was limp where Mac held him, with his hands secured behind his back with a zip tie, he was shaking his head and gabbling to himself. “This was not supposed to happen,” Jack heard, “This was not supposed to happen!” 

“Shut up, Frankenstein!” Jack barked at him. “And don’t even think about giving my friend there any trouble.” The scientist gave a whine and fell silent. 

“Matty,” Jack said into his comms, “slight change of plan. We need exfill a little early with room for us and two new friends.” 

“Okay, Dalton,” Matty’s replied in his ear, “Good work. Can you confirm what I just heard? It sounded like an animal? Are you in a museum or a zoo?” 

“That’s a funny story actually, I’ll tell it to you later when I understand exactly what happened myself.” He turned Mac who was pulling the scientist to his feet. “What did just happen? You find a mosquito preserved in amber on the floor there?” 

“I rewired the speaker from the display to send out a signal that would activate the animatronic T Rex. I remembered how loud it was from when we came through here earlier so I made the signal last for about ten seconds and figured that would be enough time to distract the bad guys without alerting everyone at the gala.” 

Jack grunted as he hauled the unconscious arms dealer up and onto his shoulder to carry him, Marcus was solid but Jack was sure he could get him to the exfill without too many problems. When he was used to the weight on his shoulder Jack turned to Mac, adrenalin and a childlike joy thrilling him, and held out his fist for Mac to bump. 

“You brought dinosaurs back to life, man!” he crowed. “Jurassic Park right here in London!” 

Mac beamed right back at him. “It was pretty cool, right?” 

“There were teeth and claws and that roar and these two chuckleheads trying to poison humanity. It was Jurassic Park meets Outbreak meets Planet of the Apes if you add those skulls back there.” 

“Those skulls were Neanderthals, Jack. That’s not the same things as apes, they’re actually…”

Jack was too cheerful to be care about in being corrected and interrupted with, “You know, I think I’ll add ‘wrestle a T Rex’ onto my bucket list because I can totally tick it off now. Jack Dalton fought the king of the dinosaurs and won. ” 

“That’s great.” Mac had the affectionately exasperated look on his face he that used when he had decide it was easier not to argue with Jack. Jack liked that look a lot. “That’s almost exactly what happened.” 

“Since all the bad guys are present and correct,” Jack nodded to the silent, distraught looking scientist Mac still held, “let’s bounce.” 

Swaggering despite the weight of the man on his shoulder, Jack hummed the Jurassic Park theme song as he walked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went to the National History Museum for the first time last summer and it was amazing. I geeked out the whole time. It’s a beautiful old building with amazing exhibits, I was there for a whole day and didn’t even see half of the displays. I’ve fudged the layout a bit but all the exhibits I mention in this story are in the museum, including a life sized animation T Rex. If you have a chance you should definitely go, but take a picnic because the food hall is expensive.


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

Her hotel room was a lot like his. It was minimal and functional but efforts had clearly been made to soften the corporate feel of the mass produced furniture and fittings. The lighting was gentle, the chair at the desk looked comfortable and the bed and its sheets were soft. The room smelled like her perfume and her makeup was sitting on the table; Jack tried to remember the last time he had been in a space that had been so wholly feminine. 

When he’d walked into his own hotel’s lobby he had felt a chill on his skin as the temperature changed from the heat of the day outside to the cool of the air conditioned building. Goosebumps rose on his arms at the change, and what he spotted when his eyes adjusted to the different level of light caused a tingle to spark between his shoulder blades. There was another person with the appearance of studied nonchalance lingering in a position that gave them clear view all around them. This time it was a man sat in a chair near the slot machines. There was a newspaper in his hands and was dressed casually in jeans and a T shirt; he was so bland and unmemorable that he immediately caught Jack’s attention. He was the second person of that description Jack had seen that afternoon. The first had been sat in a car parked across the street from the Italian restaurant his meet had taken place in. After checking for other suspicious looking characters Jack went up to his room, quickly washed his face and changed his shirt, then walked to a bar where he could blend in with everyone else by doing what people came to Las Vegas to do: gamble, indulge themselves and live another life for a while. 

He picked the busiest bar nearby, one that had Elvis impersonators and all you can eat shrimp from 10am every day. It wasn’t too loud or too well-lit and there were plenty of customers for him to blend in with. Jack sat at the bar on the uncomfortable stool, ordered a bourbon, and struck up a conversation with the woman next to him who had long hair and was wearing perfume that smelled like blue skies. They talked, laughed, moved from the bar to share a table, flirted, and then she’d tilted her head and looked at him in a way that made him more than hopeful. 

It was Jack’s first mission since Lake Como. Since they’d failed to secure the deadly virus. Since Nikki. 

Mac was still recovering from a bullet wound to the chest, receiving physiotherapy to help him regain the strength in his shoulder and trying to find a way to live with having watched someone he loved die. Watching her fall without being able to do anything to prevent it while Jack had been unconscious and useless on the floor. Jack had been cleared as fit for duty the month before and had been working as a consultant until this mission had come up. Mac had sent him a text before he shipped out to wish him good luck. 

“I heard Thornton has given you a mission. Good luck, I hope it all goes well.” 

“Thanks. I’ll miss you. It won’t be the same without your annoying chatter.” 

“No, things won’t be the same. Be safe, Jack.” 

It was his first solo mission for years and he missed being in a team and having someone’s back to watch. He felt the absence of his friends like a vacuum, like there was a gap in air beside him with an accompanying silence where there should have been someone telling him, “That’s not how vacuums work, Jack”. 

The woman at the bar had said that her name was Sophia. Jack didn’t believe that, but then his name wasn’t really Ethan Moore. They were in Vegas, a place people came to leave their real lives behind in an oasis where you could be the one who wins one million dollars with a pull of a lever, or the dice could land on your lucky number. Where things were bigger and brighter and impossible dreams could come true. 

They’d kissed right there in the bar, soft and sweet and full of promise. Jack noticed that there was nobody in the room who seemed to be observing him, no one was dawdling over their first drink or pretending to watch the game showing on the TV. If he was being followed he had either lost his tail or their suspicions had been diverted. He could have made his excuses then and gone back to his room to report to Oversight, but instead stayed at the bar and had another drink. 

She at laughed at his jokes and kissed him again and didn’t ask him where he thought Thornton would find another hacker with Nikki’s skills, or ask how Mac was, or ask how he was doing. She didn’t know that Nikki was dead, that Mac could have died and that he had been there when it happened. She wasn’t making polite conversation to avoid an awkward silence that Jack felt should be filled with accusations of ‘where were you,” or ‘why didn’t you stop it?’ 

Her room had a better view than his with her window facing the street. Outside lights were buzzing and flashing and crowds of people moved endlessly among them, winning and losing and hoping. Jack felt removed from all the noise and bustle, cocooned in the calm room with the green walls, the soft bed and the beautiful woman. He moved towards her and leant in for another kiss, stopping just before their lips touched, each of them able to feel the breath of the other on their skin. They stayed still for a long moment, watching each other, waiting for an expression of doubt, then both knowing that what they wanted was the same when one didn’t come. They both understood that they were going to share this night then move on. There were no obligations or promises other than to spend the time enjoying each other. 

Jack savoured that silent moment, wanting to capture those few intimate seconds and hold that feeling of connection and closeness just there inside him. 

He should have been back in his hotel room making his report and receiving orders, and he would do that in the morning. When the sun rose Jack Dalton was going to strap on his gun and do his job but while the moon was out he was going to live the cover life he had been assigned. He would be Ethan Moore, a man who had visited to a bar in Vegas and met a beautiful woman. 

Ethan Moore had a good life. A steady job. A nice apartment. A sister and two nieces. His mom and dad were both retired and lived in Virginia. He enjoyed skiing and spent two weeks each winter in the Canadian mountains with his buddies. He had never dived into a lake to find his best friend in the dark and pull him, bloodied and shaking with pain, from the icy water. Ethan hadn’t felt warm blood cover his cold hands as he’d put pressure on his Mac’s chest to try to stem his bleeding wound, causing Mac to arch in pain. 

“You have to help me find her, Jack.” Mac’s eyes were wild and his fingernails dug into Jack’s arms as he clung to him. “She fell. Jack, help me please. She’s hurt. We have to find her. Please. Help me.” 

Her hotel room was comfortably isolating and he lay in a safe haven of sensation and tender company. He didn’t have to keep track of how much ammo he had left. No one he loved would be hurt if he made a mistake. She didn’t need him to be primed on the edge of his nerves, aware of everything around him and ready to react. 

Her hair and her curves were soft and she was warm and alive in his arms. And for those stolen hours as Ethan Moore, Jack was able to do nothing but be warm and alive too. 


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

“How come you owe the FBI a favour but we’re the ones stood outside of a crappy looking building in a sketchy part of town?” Jack asked, scowling out of his car’s windscreen at the old factory that they were parked beside. 

“I’m sharing the love, Dalton.” Matty replied over the comms. “You helping me repay my favour to the FBI helps everyone. Not being indebted anymore makes me happy. When I’m happy I smile and think generous thought. And when I’m thinking generous thought I can be patient with the agents I work with and whose salary reviews I’m due to start.” 

“Since you put it that way, Matty,” Mac answered, meeting Jack’s eye, “we’re happy to help.” 

Jack harrumphed. 

“Should I go and knock?” Mac raised an eyebrow at his partner, “Or shall we just sit around glaring at the gates?” 

“I have a bad feeling about this.” Jack answered, “It’s too easy. The FBI get Matty to repay a favour with a simple job like this? Nah!” He shook his head, “I don’t like it.” 

“My contact assured me that this mission is legit” Matty replied in their ears. “This will be a quick intel gathering operation. They just don’t have the means to cover it themselves right now.” 

“I don’t buy it.” Jack shook his head again, with his lip curling bitterly. “It’s too easy. With all the resources they could have access to at the Phoenix they use up a favour on a simple info op? I just don’t buy it.” 

“The missions that you like are the ones that usually end up going sideways,” Mac said, “remember that op in Chicago?” 

Jack nodded once, “You have a point there bud, but it doesn’t mean that I’m wrong now. Just you wait, this day is going to end with you having to make a rocket launcher out of elastic bands and toilet roll and with us having to fight out way out of there.” 

“Dalton, this is happening and it needs to happen now or you’re going to be late for your meeting.” 

“Alright, I’ll do this but I you need to put an armed response team on standby for when we call needing an emergency exfil.” Jack insisted.

“That’s the first things I’m going to do when your butts get inside that building.” 

“I’m holding you to that.” Jack said, ignoring Matty’s sarcasm “Riley, are you tracking our phones?” 

“I’m here, Jack,” she replied over the comms. “I’ve got you both.” 

“You make sure she scrambles that team. Maybe you should fuel up a helicopter and alert the coast guard while you’re at it.” 

“We’re nearly one thousand miles from the nearest coast.” Mac said. 

“It doesn’t hurt to be prepared!” 

“Would somebody please start moving before I have to start firing people?” Matty shouted, her patience gone. 

“I’m going.” Mac climbed out of the car then knocked on the wooden gate at the entrance to the factory building. Green paint flaked off as the gate creaked open. 

Jack watched Mac talk to the man behind the gate, every instinct in his body humming. 

“I’ve been over the covers the FBI set up for you,” Riley said, “You and Mac own a garage that is struggling financially and you’ve arranged a deal where counterfeit money gets laundered through your business for a cut of the profits. It all looks solid. They’ve arranged for you to meet up with the boss today and take away the first shipment of cash. Apparently the boss likes to meet everyone who works for them in person.” 

“Well isn’t that friendly.” Jack groused as Mac got back in the car beside him. 

“They’re waiting for us.” Mac said. Then when Jack didn’t make any move to start the car he added. “So we should go in now. Jack?” Another pause. “Are you coming or am I going to go in there and get ambushed on my own?” 

“Don’t even joke about that, man! What’s wrong with you? You’ll jinx us!” Jack held up his hands then dragged them down his face. “Okay, the sooner we start this the sooner we get the hell out of here.” He grumbled under his breath as he started the car and drove through the open gate. It closed behind them with a definitive thump. 

Once inside they were surrounded by old brick walls that were all about ten feet high with small green shoots growing in places where the bricks had crumbled away. The main building in front of them was two stories high, made of the same red bricks as the walls and had tall, dirty windows looking into the yard where Jack and Mac were standing. Everywhere Jack looked he saw evidence of age, neglect and decay. He had to grudgingly admit that it was a good place to hide an illegal operation. The factory was run down enough to look abandoned at a first glace and creepy enough to discourage a second. 

Three men were approaching the car as Jack turned off the engine and pocketed the keys. Each man had a grim expression and the physique of a bodybuilder. Muscles bulged under their shirt and they all walked as if they were carrying barrels under each arm. 

“Well they look friendly.” Mac deadpanned. 

“Have they been bench pressing armoured trucks for a hobby or something? You’re going to look like a skinny dork next to them, man.” Jack patted Mac on the arm with the back of one hand. “But since that’s what you are that works out nicely.” He grinned at Mac’s irritated expression. “Come on, let do this.” 

The three men, who Jack mentally christened Huey, Dewey and Louie, weren’t big talkers. Huey, the one who had opened the gate, grunted at Mac and signalled for him and Jack to follow him into the building. 

“This is a nice place you have here.” Jack said to fill the silence. “I like the whole industrial decline vibe you have going on. It’s bold, not everyone would have the guts to try and pull it off.” 

Dewey blinked at Jack, his expression flat. Jack couldn’t decide whether he had no sense of humour of if he didn’t understand what Jack was talking about. 

They left the bright sun of the morning behind them as they walked into the old building, the dirty windows dulling the light and making the interior of the factory grey and gloomy. Their footsteps echoed around the high walls and Jack blinked to try to adjust his eyes to the shadowy surrounding. They were in a large workshop area. Two white vans stood over in one corner and the rest of the space was lined with worktops. The area near the vans was clean and neat but the rest of the room was as dirty and neglected as the outside of the building. Jack could hear a clunking metallic rhythm that sounded like a train was approaching in the distance. The printing presses, he realised. They didn’t have visual confirmation of the counterfeiting operation but it sounded like it was definitely in the building. If they could sweet talk their way into seeing the presses maybe they could wrap up this operation quickly after all. 

“So, here you are, it’s nice to finally meet you two boys in person.” A female voice came from behind one of the vans. “I like to put faces to names.” 

The woman who stepped out to greet them was probably in her late 30’s but was carefully groomed to seem younger. She was blonde and slim and looked like she should be going to a yoga class or meeting friends for brunch. She held out a beautifully manicured hand for Mac and Jack to shake. 

“I’m not what you expected, I know.” She tossed her long hair over her shoulder, “What can I say? I don’t like to be predictable.” 

“That’s good, I mean, it’s umm,” Mac stammered “it’s nice to meet you, Ma…”

“Call me Missy,” she interrupted before Mac could finish his sentence, “if you call me Ma’am we’ll fall out. Ma’am is my grandmother.” 

“Missy it is then!” Jack clapped his hands together, “It’s great to finally know you, if we’d have known just who we would be meeting we would have come by much sooner.” 

“Flattery, I like it!” Missy winked at Jack, then pointed to one of the vans with her thumb and addressed Louie. “The boys need their money.” 

Louie collected a briefcase from the back of one of the vans and handed it to Missy who opened it, showed Jack and Mac the piles of cash inside then clicked the lid shut and held the briefcase out to Jack. 

“That’s a chuck of change their, Missy.” Jack said, holding up his hands and leaning away from her. “We’ve only just met, isn’t this all a bit sudden?” 

“I’m a good judge of character, I can look at a person and just see through them, and you boys have honest faces.” She gave him a smile full of perfect white teeth. 

Jack took the briefcase from her, it was lighter than expected and the handle was cold from being stored in the dark room. Jack’s gut tightened. The briefcase, the big smiles, this whole situation was wrong. It was far too easy, things were never this straightforward on a mission and years of experience had taught Jack that if things looked too good to be true they probably were. 

“Why don’t you go and put that in your car,” she said to Jack and then pointed to Mac, “and you stay here with me for a moment or two. One of my vans isn’t working right and I thought, since you’re a mechanic, you could have a quick look under the hood for me.” 

Mac and Jack exchanged a look. Jack inclined his head slightly to communicate, _‘No. No splitting up. I don’t like this’_ to his partner. Mac raised his eyebrows to reply _‘I know, me neither, but we’re going to have to go with it for now’._

“It’s this one here.” Missy put her arm through Mac’s and started to lead him over the van on the right. “It’s making a banging sound. My boys have skills but engines aren’t their areas of expertise. Your friend is fine here with me,” she called to Jack over her shoulder, “why don’t you put that case in your car and we’ll all meet up back here to talk some more.” When Jack didn’t move she added, “Scoot!” 

Jack wavered but unable to see how he could avoid doing it he headed back out into the yard. Dewey followed. Jack’s gut twitched again and he felt a brief burst of self-satisfaction, he knew this mission was going to be a dud and here it was going sideways already. 

“You’re boss seems like a nice lady.” He said as he walked, every sense trained onto Dewey to track his movements. “Imagine having a nice lady as a boss. That must really be something.” They reached the car and Jack opened the trunk and placed the briefcase inside. “If you wanted to work out some kind of deal where we service your vehicles for you my partner and I…” 

Dewey’s shadow moved and Jack saw the dark shape raise an arm. He twisted and ducked, narrowly avoiding the crowbar that Dewey had swung at him. 

“Really? From behind, dude?” Jack said and kicked Dewey behind one of his knees, unbalancing him forward to crack his forehead on the lid of the trunk then slump untidily inside. 

“I don’t know how things are back there at the Phoenix but it’s all started to fall apart here.” Jack spoke into his comms, shoving at arms and legs until the whole of Dewey’s unconscious body was inside the trunk and slamming the lid shut. “Some one’s just tried to take my head off.” 

“You’ve only been in there for ten minutes!” Riley replied. 

“And it’s probably only going to get worse.” Jack started jogging back to the building. “Mac and I have been separated.” 

The workshop was empty. Jack checked inside the two vans but found nothing. He growled low in his throat and kicked one of the tires. 

“He’s gone. Didn’t I say this mission was bad news? Didn’t I? But nobody listens to good old Jack.” 

“I’ve tracked Mac’s phone and I’m looking at the blue prints of the factory, he should be…”Jack heard Riley typing, “Jack, go through the door in front of you then left.” 

Jack ran through echoing, empty rooms, following Riley’s directions. He could still hear the sound of the printing press churning out fake currently somewhere deep in the bowels of the factory. Counterfeiting charges were going to be the least of Missy and her boy’s worries when he got hold of them. If a stupid mission that the FBI had lied to them about was responsible for Mac being hurt, or worse, Jack’s anger would be righteous, swift, and downright messy for everyone involved. 

“Okay, Jack,” Riley said “he’s in the room at the end of the hall. It’s small, probably a supply closet or something, so there’re shouldn’t be anyone else in there for you to worry about.” 

With his pulse pounding with adrenalin and his hands itching with the need to _do something._ Jack reached the door. Noticed that it was locked. And opened it with a firm kick. Lock picking was never his strongest skill and he wasn’t in the mood for delicacy. 

Riley had been right, it was a supply closet. It was littered with dusty spare parts that Jack couldn’t identify, a filing cabinet stood rusting in the corner beside broken pipes, big, label-less bottles and a spool of yellow wire. 

“Mac?” He hissed. 

Jack kicked an empty cardboard box out of his way and walked further into the room. He felt his heart give a panicked jolt when he spotted a pair of legs sprawled and unmoving on the floor behind a pile of chairs. Jack ran the two steps it took him to reach Mac and dropped to his knees beside him. He was lying on his side with his eyes closed and his face slack with unconsciousness. A livid red bruise spread from his left cheekbone up into his hair, his hand and feet were tied and he had been gagged with a piece of fabric. 

“Mac! I swear to God, man this is turning out to be a new Cairo Day.” Jack held two fingers on Mac’s throat and sighed with relief to find a pulse beating there. “The next time I say that I have a bad feeling about a mission I think I’ve earned the right to be listened to.” He pulled the Swiss Army Knife from Mac’s pockets and cut open his bonds. “It’s time for you to wake up, brother so we can get the hell out of here.” 

Mac didn’t move. Didn’t open his eyes. 

“Riley,” Jack called, “I’ve found Mac, he’s unconscious. I need to get him out of here now.” 

“I’m on it,” Riley answered quickly, “I’ve alerted the emergency exfil team and they’ll be with you in ten minutes. Just hang on. Is Mac okay?” 

“I think so,” Jack moved Mac into the recovery position, “but I can’t get him to wake up. I need to figure out what to do about our new friends before they come back…ah,” he turned as he heard the door of the room swung open, “never mind. Here they are now.” 

Out of time and out of other options, Jack jumped to his feet, let out a battle cry, and ran as hard as he could into the person opening the door. They collided with a blow that sent Jack staggering and drove a winded ‘ooof’ from his chest but with his training muscle memory was throwing punches before he had regained his breath. He had knocked Huey to the floor but Louie was stood right behind him and he quickly stepped forward to join the brawl. Jack settled into his fighting stance, ready to attack and defend. He had to hold them off long enough for the exfil team to arrive because until they did he was the only thing standing between them and where Mac lay defenceless behind him. The boys didn’t move as quickly as Jack but they were strong. Jack swung and dodged and each blow he took felt like running into a brick wall. Blood was running from his knuckles and from a cut near his eye but Jack gritted his teeth and aimed a kick at Louie’s kidneys. 

“Jack! Hit the floor!” 

Jack heard Mac shout from behind him and he dropped straight down with his hands covering his head. The air above him shuddered and rippled with a loud woosh of movement followed by a deep boom of an explosion. Jack closed his eyes and held his breath against the dust that filled the air. There was a dull thud once, twice, followed by the sounds of Huey and Louie crashing to the floor. Jack counted to twenty and opened his eyes to find himself staring at the two musclebound men he had been fighting face down in the rubble and a pile of bricks where the walls used to be. 

“Are you okay?” 

Turning towards Mac Jack saw him stood, his feet braced apart, covered in brown dust and holding section of pipe that had smoke curling from both ends. 

“Did you build a rocket launcher?” 

Mac stuck his tongue into his cheek and looked down at the contraption in his hands. 

“Kind of. A baby one.” 

“You built a rocket launcher!” 

_Later_

Mac and Jack watched from where they were leaned against their car as Huey, Dewey and Louie were taken to hospital with a police escort and an angry, filthy Missy was being helped into a squad car. The remains of the factory was still smoking slightly as fire crews inspected it. 

“How sure were you that you weren’t going to level the whole place with that explosion?” Jack asked. 

“Pretty sure. I was as careful as I could be, under the circumstances.” 

“You’re ‘pretty sure’ is good enough for me man, I’m happy to take that. But we haven’t discussed the most important thing to happen today.” 

“Which is?” 

Jack held up a finger to emphasis his dramatic pause, letting the moment build. “I was right.” he grinned widely, “I was right. I said I had a bad feeling about this mission. I said we’d end up having to fight out way out of there. I even said you’d end up building a rocket launcher out of stuff you found lying around. I. Was. Right.” He waved an arm to punctuate his words. 

“You were right, Jack.” Mac patted him on the shoulder. “You were, I should listen to you more often.” 

“Let me hear that again.” 

“I should listen to you more often.” 

“No not that part. The first part.” 

“You were right.” 

“About what?” 

“About the mission, about the FBI. About everything.” 

“Oh, I like hearing that.” Jack waving an encouraging gesture at Mac with his hands, “Say it again.” 

“You were right about everything, Jack.” 

“There it is!” Jack crowed, closing his eyes, a blissful expression on his grime streaked face, “One more time for the people at the back please.” 

“You were right about everything, Dalton.” Matty’s voice replied. Jack’s eyes snapped open to find her stood before him wearing a mixture of amusement of exasperation in her expression. “I wanted to check that you were both in one piece. How’s the shiner, Blondie?” She pointed to the bruise that was still visible on Mac’s face despite all dirt he was covered in. 

“Sore. I’ll live.” Mac shrugged. 

“I got the paramedics to check him out, they said he’s fine.” Jack reached up and gently tapped Mac on the forehead, “His heads too thick to be broken that easily.” 

“Good to know. I need to go and have a conversation with some old friends at the FBI now, they scammed me into this mission. Scammed me! And then I ended up having to admit to Jack that he was right. This is unacceptable and it will not be allowed to happen again.” She turned and stalked away and Jack felt a bolt of sympathy for all the people who were about to encounter her wrath. 

Jack leaned closer to Mac to nudge him with his shoulder. Mac turned to face him and the movement disturbed a layer of dust that drifted down from his hair. In the distance Jack could hear Matty shouting at someone to get the director of the FBI on the phone. 

Jack grinned, Cheshire Cat wide, feeling gratified and at one with the universe. 

“I was right about everything.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there has been an episode with a money counterfeiting storyline in the show, I read the synopsis for it just after I had plotted this particular story out. Since the counterfeiting isn’t actually an important part of this story I decided not to change it, I haven’t seen that particular episode yet but I don’t think it features are three heavies and a soccer mom and Mac blowing up a building with a rocket launcher made from stuff he found in a cupboard. Benjamin Franklin and Grey Duffle is on this coming Sunday so I’ll find out soon enough… 
> 
> While writing this I found myself googling Huey, Dewey and Louie, money laundering and what colours bruises turn as they age. Writing fan fiction is a funny old business.


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

It was almost midnight and the car park was practically deserted. Stars weren’t visible, the street lamps and the glow of the motorway service station filling the night sky had obscured the last part of the journey for light that had travelled half way across the universe. It was sad really, Jack mused, that something had soared for unimaginable distances only to be lost a few miles from its destination in the luminous haze of a Welcome Break hotel and restaurant complex on the outskirts of Birmingham. Mac leaned forward in his seat next to Jack, checking out the area for anyone unfriendly. Jack turned and spoke to the tired and cautiously hopeful woman in the back seat. 

“This is it,” he said. “We’ll go with you to meet your contact then they’ll take you both somewhere safe.” 

The woman nodded. “Thank you. Thank you both so much.” She unbuckled her and her daughter’s seatbelts and pulled her sleeping child into her arms. 

  


_36 hours earlier_

Jack expected his team to be laughing at him. He thought he’d turn round to find them all pointing and giggling at his expense. Instead he found them all with variations of indulgent smiles on their faces. Bozer’s nose was wrinkled up, Mac was fighting to hold off a goofy grin, and Riley’s eyes had grown wide and fond. 

“Awww, Jack, this mission is going to be so cute!” 

He wasn’t sure if he was offended or not. 

“Are you sure that I’m the best person for this job?” He asked Matty. 

“Yes I am.” She answered. 

“Aren’t there other agents who would be better at it than me?” 

“No. You’ve done extractions before. Ones that were way more complicated and dangerous than this. We’ve been searching for this cartel leader for more than a year when his wife makes contact saying that they’re hiding in England and that she wants out and is willing to testify. We scoop her and her child up and bring them home. No muss no fuss. Besides,” Matty shrugged, “you love kids, I don’t see what the problem is.” 

“There’s no problem. I don’t have a problem. It’s just not my usual…area.” 

“I’m sure you’ll be able to improvise.” She inclined her head at him in a challenge. 

“So I’m definitely going to…”

“Yes.” 

“And there’s no chance I could…”

“No.” 

  


_16 hours earlier_

Jack’s first impression was of primary colours and smiles. The walls of Cloverleigh Nursery were decorated with bright letters, shapes in cheerful shades and pictures of happy children busily having fun. The receptionist sat behind the desk in the entrance greeted him with a grin. 

“Good morning, you must be Adam from the supply agency! If you can just sign in here,” she pushed a visitor’s book at him. “I’ll call Rachel, the teacher in your class, to let her know you’ve arrived.” 

Jack scrawled his assumed name, Adam Williams, on the next empty line in the book and waited for the receptionist to finish her phone call. He wandered away from the reception desk to look at the display of children’s pictures titled Spring Flowers, where paint had been daubed onto paper in thick, frenetic shapes that could be flowers if you tilted your head and squinted. 

“How’s it going, Mr Kimble?” Riley’s voice sing song-ed to him through the coms. 

“We agreed there would be more Kindergarten Cop references.” Jack whispered. 

“No, we didn’t agree that,” Mac replied, “you insisted on it and we ignored you.” 

“The most important thing to remember, Jack,” Bozer said, “Is that boys have a…”

“Bozer!” Matty cut him off, “Can we all stay focused please?” 

“Rachel said she’d be right down.” The receptionists called to Jack, “It’s so nice to have a man come to work here. Almost everyone who works with children in this age group is female so it’s great to have a change, and the kids will love it.” She smiled at him again. 

Rachel shook his hand and led him to the classroom. He felt like a giant next to the tiny tables and chairs and he kept having to duck to avoid the pictures that had been hung on lines of string. The room smelled of paint, playdough, glue and the oranges in the snack area. Rachel was talking about the children and the nursey’s routine, telling him about circle time and how they were encouraging literacy and numeracy skills and it was all so far removed from his usual mission requirements that he felt momentarily dazed. 

“I’ve hacked the CCTV,” Riley’s voice in his ear brought him back to himself. “I’m going to replace today’s footage with some from last week so if anyone looks they’ll see our Mrs Lennox leaving with her daughter and walking towards her home not her climbing into a car with you and Mac. You okay? Anyone thrown up on you yet?” 

“Not yet, but the doors are about to open so it could happen any time now.” Jack watched Rachel open the door to the outside area to allow a stream of three year old inside. There was a flurry of noisy, small people dashing into the room, kisses for mummy and daddy and reminders to ‘be good’. Mrs Julia Lennox stood in the door with her daughter Robyn in her arms and searched the room with quick, worried glances. She gave a panicked start at the sudden thunder of hundreds of small pieces of Lego crashing to the floor when a little boy tipped a plastic tub upside down. When she spotted Jack she grew still and tightened her grip on her daughter, he nodded at her and saw her push through the moment of shock at his presence confirming that her plans and hopes were actually becoming real. She relaxed and placed Robyn down on the floor. 

“Have you spotted the targets yet?” Mac asked him. 

“They’ve just arrived.” Jack said, watching Mrs Lennox saying goodbye to the teacher, “Mom’s looking nervous but I think she’s solid. She’s ready for this.” 

Robyn ran to the table where yellow playdough and plastic knives and cutters were waiting. A little boy was already playing there, jabbing a knife into a piece of playdough with a ferocity that Jack found troubling. He sat down on one of the little chairs, banging his knee on the table in the process, picked up a piece of the playdough and started rolling it in his hands. It was malleable, slightly sticky and reminded Jack of playing with his cousins as a child. 

“What are you making?” Robyn asked him, picking up a goggly eye from a tub of sequins, pipe cleaners and other accessories in the middle of the table. 

“I haven’t decided yet,” Jack answered, “What about you?” 

“I’m making a Minion.” She answered, holding up her yellow creation. 

“I see that.” Jack was distracted by an insistent tapping on his shoulder. He turned to find the small boy peering at him with wide eyes. 

“Where is your hair?” 

Jack heard his team collectively burst out laughing. “I had it cut, having my hair this short helps keep me cool.” 

The boy blinked at him. “Why is it that colour?” 

The giggling and snorting from the comms intensified. “When you do lots of awesome things in your life it makes your hair turn this colour.” Jack didn’t think it was a lie, not completely, more of an indirect way of looking at the truth. 

The boy didn’t look convinced. “My Nana has hair that colour.” 

“Maybe your Nana has done lots of awesome things.” 

“She likes bingo.” 

“Maybe bingo is awesome.” 

The boy thought about that for a second then dismissed it, moving onto another subject with dizzying speed. “I bet you can’t guess what my brother is called.” 

“I know!” Robyn called. “I know that!” 

“Um,” Jack could hear a child banging a drum with a tambourine above the general din that only a collection of small children could create. “Bruce?” he guessed, “Fred? Jim? Franklin?” 

The boy shook his head. “He’s called Zach. And he does this.” He closed his eyes, screwed up his face and let out a wail, “Waaaaaaaaaaaaah!” 

“Wow, that’s loud. Is he a baby?” Jack asked. 

The boy nodded, “He’s this big.” He held his hands out at a baby sized distance. 

“I don’t want a brother.” Robyn offered, pressing more playdough into shapes. “They’re loud and messy and will want to play with my toys. Do you have a brother?” 

Jack smiled to himself and answered, “Actually, I do; and he is loud and he messes with my stuff. He breaks my phone all the time.” 

Robyn looked horrified. “But that’s not kind!” 

“No,” Jack said, shaking his head sadly, “no it’s not.” 

“You heard her, Mac,” Jack heard Riley say in the comms, “from the mouths of babes, man.” 

“I’m not being unkind!” Mac protested in Jack’s ear, sounding flustered, “It’s for a good cause, trying to save the world and stuff.” 

“What’s his name?” The boy asked, “Is he called Zach too?” 

“It’s Angus.” Jack answered and laughed at Robyn’s revolted expression. 

“Angus! That’s a silly name. Maybe if he was nicer he could get a better one.” 

Jack was charmed by her righteousness, in his ear he Jack Riley and Bozer snickering. “That’s not a bad idea, I’ll tell him that next time I see him.” 

“Yeah, alright, I suck, okay.” Mac grumbled. “Can we just get this family into Witness Protection before I get burned again by a three year old?” 

The sound of chimes cut through the classroom and everyone turned to see the teacher ringing a small bell. “Good morning, nursery! One, two, three, look at me! One, two, three,” she repeated, the children all joining in with the second refrain, “look at me! It’s time for circle time so can you all leave what you are doing and come and sit on the carpet please.” 

Toys and games were abandoned as twenty five children left what they were playing with and went to sit cross legged at a carpeted area near an adult sized chair. The children sat in a vaguely circle shape with the teacher in the front. Jack followed and lacking a better idea he sat down on the carpet at the edge of the class. Robyn and the playdough stabbing boy sat next to him as the Rachel said good morning to her class. When they’d repeated it back to her she pointed him out to them. 

“This is Mr Williams, he is going to be with us today to help out. Can you all say good morning to him?” 

The class turned and all the little faces looked his way, examining him with big, solemn eyes. 

“Good morning, Mr Williams.” They drawled out. 

“Good morning. It’s very nice to meet you all.” He replied, shifting slightly to change position as he started to feel pins and needles starting in one leg. 

They counted how many children were there in the class that day, sang a song about little ducks going swimming, then another about elephants balancing on a piece of string. They weren’t Jack’s usual karaoke favourites but he gave them his best effort. Then, when Jack was worried about permanent damage to his calves due to their lack of circulation, the teacher announced that it was time for them to go and play and reminded them to be kind and share with their friends, because they were all friends at nursery, weren’t they? 

The children rushed off into different corners of the room with the sound of shrieks and fifty shoes pounding across the floor, followed by a call of “No running inside please” from the teacher. The playdough boy ran into the home corner and Jack hoped that there were no sharp knives in the kitchen section. The noise level rose again as the children became engrossed in playing and learning and feeling the pure clarity of each second in the way that life is experienced at that age. He started to heave himself up from the floor when Robyn appeared in front of him clutching a copy of The Gruffalo. 

“Will you read this to me please?” she asked. 

“Of course.” Jack stood. “It’s one of my favourites.” 

Jack allowed himself to be led by the hand to an area with bookshelves and a comfortable looking green sofa with soft cushions, ’the reading area,’ Robyn informed him. He sat down and she scrambled next to him and handed him the book. 

_“A mouse took a stroll through the deep, dark wood. A fox saw the mouse and the mouse looked good.”_ He read. 

Robyn snuggled closer to him. A warm, trusting weight against his side. They were joined by a little boy who sat on Jack’s other side holding a book that he clearly wanted to hear next. 

Jack had been right when he’d told Matty that this wasn’t his usual area. There had been no high speed chases, he hadn’t jumped off a building or dodged bullets but that wasn’t to say that being in the room with a class of small children was lacking the odd adrenaline rush. And there was something about being trusted and accepted by these young, wild, honest little souls that was humbling. They lived each moment fully and were allowing Jack, without question or judgment, to share that and to view it through their eyes. He looked at the little faces staring intently at the mouse in the book, both engrossed in the story, then out at the rest of the class as they played and explored and grew. He wasn’t saving the world but maybe by helping children grow, even for a few hours, he was still helping it a little. 

“ _Silly old fox! Doesn’t he know? There’s no such thing as a Gruffalo.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book that Jack is reading is the wonderful The Gruffalo by Julia Donaldson.
> 
> I work in a nursery and all the people who employed by my setting are female and the outside professionals that come into see the children, like physiotherapists and speech and language therapists, are all women too. On the rare occasion that a man comes in my nursery, usually a student nurse, the kids love it. So I thought, what one day that male visitor was Jack …
> 
> Also, Kindergarten Cop is one of my favourite guilty pleasure movies. I love it. It’s right up there with The Bodyguard and the High School Musical movies (what team?)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what I’ll do, I thought, I’ll do a Five Plus One story thingy, I haven’t done one of them before and I can put those disparate fic ideas I have into one place with a theme, that’s a nifty idea.  
> More than four weeks, a bout of tonsillitis, a pause to write a completely different story because I got stuck and over fourteen thousand words later I finished it, and this is the last part.
> 
> Thank you very much to everyone who has commented and left kudos, I really, truly appreciate it.  
> xxx

**\+ 1**

Jack was sat up in his hospital bed waiting to be discharged. He knew this procedure could take a while and there was no reason to get antsy about it so he stretched out on the bed with his legs out in front of him and his folded arms behind his head. His hospital room was, well, it was a hospital room. White, clean, functional with curtains that pulled around his bed to give him privacy that were a colour that was supposed to be soothing. There was a constant bustle of movement outside his room and he knew that some people found that the endless noise disturbed their sleep but Jack liked it. He liked being able to hear people busily caring for others. With all the things he’d seen it was reassuring to know that there were people in the world who worked long and hard to help and heal. 

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a final tub of pudding before I leave?” he called. 

The blinds that covered the window into the corridor had been pulled so they were almost closed and Jack saw a pair of blue eyes peering into the room through one of the slits. 

“Mac? Mac! Come on in.” 

Mac appeared looking uncharacteristically uncertain. His hands were pushed deep into his pockets and his shoulders rounded forward, he was hovering just in the doorway as if he wasn’t sure if he would be welcomed across the threshold. 

“What are you doing?” Jack asked, beckoning with his hands. “Come in. Come in, man. I was thinking about pudding. There should be pudding. More pudding. I like pudding. Do you like pudding? We should get some. Now. In here. To eat.” 

“What drugs do they have you on?” Mac asked as he finally stepped into the room and walked up to Jack’s bed. He still looked uncomfortable. 

“The good stuff. The best stuff and lots of it, I like it. You should try some, things get…” he fluttered his fingers like he was sprinkling fairy dust, “shiny and a little bit squishy. We should get you some to go with the pudding.” 

“I’m fine thank you, pal.” Mac said. “Maybe later.” He glanced away and pushed a hand through his hair. “Jack, I um, I want to say…”

Jack held a finger up, “Stop.” 

“But…”

“Stop.” 

“I…”

“Stop.” 

“Jack, it’s...” 

“I don’t want to hear it, stop.” Jack held his finger up higher, “I don’t want to hear an apology it wasn’t your fault.” 

Mac folded his arms across his chest. “But it was my idea so I should have gone first.” 

“That’s not how it works, bro. You have the ideas, I go in first. That’s how we get things done. That’s our groove. You don’t mess with the groove. You mess with the groove, you lose the groove. And as a karaoke champion in four different states, I know about groove.” Jack winked at Mac, who didn’t look comforted. 

“I don’t want to mess with any groove, Jack, but the shrapnel nicked your femoral artery, man, I wasn’t sure if we were going to be able to stop the bleeding in time. You could have bled out right there in front of us.” Mac looked down and away from Jack and tensed his jaw, “What would I have told Riley when I got back? What would…” he signed and shook his head. 

“Hey now,” Jack swung himself around and reached out, cupping Mac’s face in his hands, his palms on his cheeks and his fingers in his hair. “Look this way, Big Brain,” he moved Mac’s head until they were both eye to eye and swayed towards him until they were only inches apart. “It was not your fault. It was one of those things, an accident. I knew the dangers when I signed up, I still know them and I still come to work every morning. It may not always look like it but I do know what I’m doing. I make my own choices and I chose to go in first to make sure my team of dorks are protected. You hear me?” He moved his hands up and down to make Mac nod his head ‘yes’. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Shhh, I haven’t finished. So are you going to worry or feel guilty anymore?” He moved his hands again, this time making Mac shake his head ‘no’. “Good!” 

“Shall I come back in a minute?” Riley came through the door pushing a wheelchair and giving a bewildered smile to the scene in front of her. 

“Riles!” Jack crowed, “You’re here! I’m glad you’re here. I missed you when you weren’t. Like now and stuff and for all those years when you were still a kid too.” Riley raised her eyebrows at Jack as he continued to ramble, “I thought about you all the time, you know. I worried if I’d done the right thing by you and your mom, I thought I had at the time but then I wasn’t sure but you’re here now and you brought wheels!” He grinned and pointed to the wheelchair. “It’s a shame there wasn’t time for paint job, a couple of flames along each side of that thing would really make it pop.” 

“What drugs do they have him on?” Riley asked Mac. 

Mac pulled away from Jack’s grip and smoothed his hair. “The best ones , apparently.” 

“I can see that. The paperwork is all done Jack, you can leave any time.” She swept a hand over the wheelchair, “Your chariot awaits.” 

“Awesome, let get this.” Jack shuffled forwards so that he was perched on the edge of the bed with his feet dangling. He reflected on the stitches that had been put into his right thigh to stop him from bleeding to death and reconsidered his next move. “I’m going to need a little help from the two of you for a minute here. Old Jack Dalton is not fully back in the saddle yet.” 

Mac moved to Jack’s left side while Riley stood at his right. The both slipped an arm around him as he put his arms over their shoulders and eased himself forwards until his feet touched the floor. He wavered from side to side briefly before settling into the support of his team members. They leaned into him, solid and caring, and gently helped him move forward three steps. 

“Hang on, I’ll get the chair.” Riley moved from under his arm too manoeuvre the wheelchair behind Jack. 

“You see,” Jack said, turning to Mac and leaning towards him, lowering his voice to a whisper as if he was revealing a secret, “this is why I do it?” 

“Do what?” 

“What I do. Go in first. With all the shrapnel and bullet and such. Because if anyone is going to get hurt I’d rather it was me.” He tapped himself on the chest with one finger. “Well, I’d rather it was a bad guy, but if anyone on the team is going to be the one needing hospitals and wheelchairs I’d rather it was me. I don’t want to watch any of you have go through all this I couldn’t stand it.” 

Mac gently helped Jack ease down until he was sitting in the wheelchair, his mouth quirking into a sad little smile, “The only problem with that is it means that we have to watch you go through it.” 

“You didn’t think of that, did you? Next time can you please think about protecting us from terrible hospital coffee too?” Riley asked, bending forward to kiss Jack on the temple, “All I’ve drunk for days is the stuff in this place and I think it’s given me an ulcer.” 

“Oh, so that’s what that burning feeling in my gut is,” Mac patted his stomach, “it’s the coffee. I thought I’d picked something up from the Gastroenterology Ward.” 

Jack blinked up and the two of them. “You’ve been here for days?” 

“Of course,” Mac laughed, looking puzzled by Jack’s question. “I had to go home to have a shower and change because I was covered in your blood but apart from that we’ve all been here the whole time. Where else would we be?” 

Jack had been in surgery then knocked out cold by painkiller. On the occasions he had come around, fuzzy, dry mouthed and confused, someone had been there next to him but he hadn’t realised that they’d sat beside him the whole time. 

“Right now we can be somewhere else, so let’s go home.” Riley said and pushed the wheelchair out of the room. 

Mac eyed the chair critically, “Flames would look good on the side of that thing and I could maybe weld spikes onto the wheels like the chariots in Spartacus had.” 

“That would be cool. Could you make actual flames shoot out of the front?” Riley asked. 

“You know I actually think I could do that with a couple of canisters of hairspray. How badass would that look?” 

Jack was happy to let them joke as they pushed him towards the elevator. He didn’t trust his voice to work around the swell of emotion that had risen in his throat. 

  


“Your place has too many stairs and you’re on too many painkillers to be left alone.” Mac explained as he and Riley helped Jack slowly walk into Mac’s house. Jack grumbled a little but it was only for show. He hadn’t been relishing the thought of dragging himself up the stairs to his apartment and he while he loved the man cave he had built there for himself right then he wanted to spend time in the place where they all hung out. Where they argued about what pizza topping to order, gave candy out to trick or treaters and had Christmas dinner. Where they were a family. 

“Jack Dalton, on his feet and back in action!” Bozer jogged up to him wearing an apron that said ‘Kiss the cook’ with his arms held open for a hug. “You look way better than you did a couple of days ago. Of course, that was when you were bleeding heavily and shouting about back up so anything is going to be an improvement.” 

“Bozer!” Jack stumbled into Bozer, hugging him fiercely. He collided with him with a little more force that he intended and Bozer gave a little grunt and staggered back two paces with the impact. “I thought you were a little weird when I first met you, Bozer,” Jack told him, patting him affectionately on the back of the head, “I still think you’re a little weird but you’re good people, you’re a good guy, a really good guy.” 

Bozer stood on his toes to peek at Mac and Riley over Jack’s shoulder. 

“What drugs do they have him on?” 

“The best ones.” Riley answered. 

“All the best ones.” Jack agreed. “They make everything soft and cuddly. Like a puppy.” He took a deep breath and grinned, looking excited and inspired. “We should get a puppy! We can train it to sniff out bombs and stuff and it could come on missions with us. We could call in Bruce. No, McClane! That would be awesome! I’m going to talk to Matty about it next time I see her.” 

“That sounds lovely, Jack.” Bozer directed Jack’s steps to the inclining chair that he liked. “Maybe you should sit down now.” 

  


Jack sat. Bozer cooked. Mac did something to the reclining chair to stop it making a grating noise and Riley gathered together a collection of DVDs for them to watch. They bickered and laughed and Jack was happy to drift a little as he listened. He kept losing the thread of their conversation but the words didn’t matter, Jack was content just to hear the sounds of the comfortable domestic dance happening around him. 

He woke up, shifting in his chair to find that a plaid blanket had been thrown over him while he dozed and the menu screen from The Empire Strikes Back was repeating on the TV. Mac, Riley and Bozer had made themselves comfortable on the sofa next to Jack’s chair. Riley was on the right hand side, she’d turned to rest her legs across Bozer’s who was sat next to her, with her feet on Mac’s leg. Jack could see that she was wearing the purple socks with the little laptops on that he had given her as a joke birthday present. All three of them were fast asleep. 

“Aren’t they cute when they’re quiet?” Matty was stood beside the table that was ladened with Bozer’s snacks. 

“Have you been here long?” Jack jumped at her sudden appearance, disturbed by the idea that she had been watching him sleep. 

“No, just got here. I brought chocolate.” She dropped a bag onto the table. “So how’s the leg? You still high as a kite from the painkillers?” 

“What? That? No.” Jack glanced over to check that the others were still sleeping and couldn’t hear him. “Those side effects wore off hours ago. I’ve just been messing with them.” 

Matty eyes grew wide in surprise and amusement. “I like that, it’s very Machiavellian. I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

“I don’t think I do, I think I was vaccinated for that before I went to Senegal.” Jack scratched at the stubble on his chin, deciding to be honest with Matty. “You know that saying about how people can joke about something but they actually really mean what they are saying and are hiding it by being funny?” 

“Many a true word is spoke in jest?” 

“Something like that, whatever, I’ve been doing that but with the side effects of morphine instead of a joke.” 

“So, you’ve been telling them the truth but wrapping it up as the rambling product of opium derivatives.” Matty cocked her head. “That’s either madness or genius.” 

“I can’t think of a good reason why it can’t be both.” 

“That’s a very good point and it’s enough philosophy as I can handle from you in one day or I’ll be needing opiates.” Matty shook herself. “Shall we put Return of the Jedi on now or wait for the kids to wake up?” 

“Put it on,” Jack glanced over to the sofa, “They looked tuckered out so they’ll sleep for a while. They’ve all seen it before.” Jack carefully adjusted his injured leg into a more comfortable position as the Star Wars theme tune started to play. 

It was worth it. Maybe it wouldn’t look like much to some people but being able to see his friends all home and safe made going in first worth it. He’d risk all the bullets and the shrapnel and crazy bad guys in the world for this. Always. 


End file.
